To save your best friend
by Muddy Shoes
Summary: When Hungary finds out Prussia isnt dead, will she be able to save him from the torture hes suffered through all these years? Will she finally be able to tell him she loves him? T for now but that may change. Will probably be some action in coming chapter
1. Prologue

WARNING: this story is **completely historically inaccurate**!

I've never posted a fic before, so I hope you guys will enjoy this!

* * *

She remembered distinctly the burning feeling of the lump in her throat when she heard those words; those words that hit her harder than anyone could possibly punch. She remembered every detail of that memory. Every little thing she felt, as well as every little thing she hadn't felt. Thirteen words exactly. Elizaveta was not one for superstitions, but at that moment, thirteen, the number of words in that one sentence that destroyed her, was the most unlucky thing in the world.

But then again, was it luck at all?

Luck played no roll in this story. It was simply foolishness. Foolishness, and a lack of ability to realize the truth. The truth that Roderich was not truely the one she loved after all; the truth that there was someone else who truely cared for her; someone else who had always been there for her, even when she was not always there for him. She had failed to see the truth in that he had secrertly loved her all those years. All those years, he had secretly loved her, and yet he never said a word. All those years she had failed to see that she loved him back, and only after he was gone did she realized these truths she had failed to recognize before.

She remembered walking down the white hallways on her was to see him, with a horrible cloud of guilt looming above her head. She should have gone to see him sooner. She _would have_ gone to see him sooner, had she heard the news of his condition at an earlier time, and she _would have_ heard of his condition at an earlier time, had she not been so caught up in the tragety of her divorce and feeling sorry for herself

...but there was worse tragety to come.

He must have thought she didn't care about him, or whether he lived or died, but that wasn't the case at all. She had finally realized that she loved him. She had finally realized her feelings for him, and that all these years he had had feelings for her as well. How could she not have seen it? It was so obvious! At times, quite literally right in her face. She needed to tell him that she was in love with him. She could hear her pace quickening as her shoes softly clicked against the tile floor. She needed to see him. She needed to tell him everything and relieve herself of the guilt that clung to her and haunted her like a ghost. Why hadn't someone told her he had been hospitalized? Why hadn't he said something himself? They hadn't spoken in weeks, maybe months. Did he think that she--

Elizaveta stopped her thoughts. She was in front of the room number she had been told he was in. The door was open, so she walked in, expecting to find him there.

Instead, there was a young nurse cleaning up the room who looked like she was in her early twenties. "Excuse me, miss, may I help you?" she asked sweetly.

"Uhm, yes. I'm looking for Gilbert Beilschmidt. I was told this is his room."

The nurses face was blank for a moment, as though she recognized the name, but was trying to think of the person.

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss, miss, but I'm afraid he's passed away."

Thirteen words.

* * *

Aah! I'm sorry! Short crappy prologue is short and crappy... :

I promise the actual story will be better~! DDX


	2. Hope?

Okay, here's chapter 1!

I hope I did a better job on this than the prologue! Dx

* * *

Elizaveta stared emptily at the ceiling. She didn't want to get out of bed. The world was a cold, cold place full of nothing but shit.

Especially since it was the anniversary of _that day_.

That day when she gave up on everything, because obviously, everything had given up on her... Obviously, she was not allowed to be happy, so why try? It was like being a child too short to reach the cookie jar. You know what you want is right there. You can see it, smell it, even taste it, but you cannot have it. Happiness was just out of her reach, tantalizing her, wiggling away each time she caught hold of it.

A cold tear rolled down the side of her face, stinging her skin. She didn't bother to brush it away; just let it move along its path until it dried up without ever reaching its destination...just like her happiness.

The room was cold. It always was. Everything was cold now that he was gone.

Elizaveta didn't bother trying to warm herself. Maybe she could freeze to death if she sat there long enough. No... What was she thinking? Nations can't freeze, can they? No. She would not be able to escape her lonely fate so easily.

She sat up, then stood. She began walking, but she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even the icy tiles of the bathroom floor as their coldness stung her feet. She saw herself in the mirror, and almost didn't recognize herself as her. Was it just the lighting that made her skin look so white, or did she really look that much like a ghost? Her eyes were darker than she remembered, and their green color grayer and less vibrant than they had once been. She had lost a lot of weight from not eating properly, and looked very unhealthy. The image of herself would have disgusted her, but she didn't care anymore. She just didn't give a damn.

Suddenly, she heard a noise coming from her bedroom; a very familiar noise, but one she hadn't heard in a long time.

Her phone was ringing.

_"If all our life is but a dream, fantastic posing greed, then we should feed our jewelry to the sea,_

_for diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me."_

That sweet song... it had been so long since she'd heard it. She wanted to listen to the whole thing; she knew her phone would play it all, but if someone was calling _her_, it must have been something important.

She picked it up and mentally jumped back in shock at the number on the caller ID. Why was Germany calling her?

They hadn't spoken in years...or maybe it had only been a few weeks. She couldn't even remember.

"Hello?" she answered, trying to sound happy, or at the very least, not like she was grieving the loss of her dear friend.

"You don't have to pretend you aren't sad; I know what day it is," he said grimly, then paused. "Elizaveta?"

He used her human name. Why had he used her human name? Had someting happened?

She began jumping to conclusions. What if it was dear little Feliciano? Had something happened to him? Surely Germany would turn to her for help if something had ever happened to him, considering she had known him so long.

Did something have to happen to _everyone_ close to her?

"Hungary?" He called her by her country name this time, hoping he hadn't offended her at all by using her human name.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm just... a bit out of it today," she explained, though she was _'a bit out of it' _almost every day.

"There's a meeting about something very important, and I apologize for calling on such short notice, but it's very important that you attend."

She hesitated slightly before replying, "I'm sorry, but I don't think it would be a very good idea for me to go. My mental state is really not the best it could be."

He paused before speaking again, as if contemplating whether or not he should release the words he was holding in.

"He's not dead."

There was another silence as those words rang in her ear and echoed in her head.

"Excuse me?" she asked. Had she understood him correctly?

"He's not dead, Elizaveta."

"What are you talking about? I'm sorry, Germany, I don't know what you mean."

"You know who I'm talking about. Gilbert, Prussia, my brother. He's alive."

Surely this was some sort of mistake. Elizaveta refused to allow herself to believe him, knowing full well that if she got her hopes up, she would feel the pain of her heart shattering yet again.

"No. H-he can't be. He's been dead for...so many years." Her sentences and words were beginning to break as she was engulfed by the choking tears that came at the mere mention of his name.

"Elizaveta, he's not dead. Please, just listen." She could hear the supressed tears in his voice. That man who was always so good at keeping his emotions hidden was beginning to crack. "You... you have to come. We won't be able to save him without your help."

She said nothing. Even if she was able to speak, she wouldn't have known what to say.

The piercing silence was beginning to tear at her inside. She felt a strange tension within it that made her uncomfortable.

"I'll come," she said, "I'll be there as soon as I can."

She had let herself believe in that sliver of hope.

It was a foolish thing of her to do, but there was no turning back now.

Her heart was now in the hands of fate.

* * *

Augh! I'm sorry! That was still really short! DDx

The next chapter will be longer. I _promise_. For real this time. ;

Reviews are greatly appreciated!


	3. The Story

I am soooo~ sorry this chapter took so long!  
School's been a bitch these last several weeks!  
I don't think there was one day this week where I got more than five hours of sleep...  
thank god it's Friday, thank god!

I hope you all can forgive me for taking so long~  
Please try to enjoy; there's some kind of cheesey dialogue in the beginning,  
I hope you can forgive me~

* * *

There was a light rain falling when Elizaveta had reached Ludwig's house, and it was already dark outside. She hadn't bothered to bring an umbrella, not knowing the weather would be like this in Germany. She didn't mind, though; she simply let the tiny droplets land on her hair and face, and envelope her in a thin layer of moisture. The rain hadn't wettened her enough to make any change in her appearance when she'd reached the front door. She knocked and waited eagerly, though not letting it show, for someone to come to the door.  
Sweet little Feliciano was quickly there to greet her.

"Ve~ Elizaveta! Ludwig is in the living room talking with Toris," he told her in a his usual bubbly tone.

"Lithuania is here?"

"Ve," he confirmeded, "they're talking about Gilbert..." The cheerfulness had left him. Feliciano was still as clueless as ever, and though he may have been completely oblivious to the situation, he could tell somthing was wrong. He knew something was upsetting Ludwig, and it was clearly affecting him as well. It made Elizaveta sad to see the little guy so down.

The Italian led her into the living room where she could see Ludwig and Torris in a converation.

"Oh, Hunagry!" Toris exclaimed when he noticed her enter the room, "I didn't know you would be coming as well."

There was a pause of awkwardness for a moment.

"Lithuania, are you alright? You sound a bit shaken...Did something happen?"

"Oh, I-I'm just a bit worried, is all..."

"Russia doesn't know he's here," Ludwig informed her.

"I-I'm not supposed to leave without notice, b-but I had to come as soon as I found out...!" Toris avoided making eyecontact by keeping his gaze on his feet.

"Found out about what?" Elizaveta asked as politely as she could.

There was another awkward silence for a moment before Ludwig spoke, "Lithuania, would you mind telling us exactly what happened?"

"Ah, y-yes... Well, there...there was this box of old photos Russia had told me to take down to the basement," he tried to recall exactly the events that had taken place the previous day.

_Toris gulped, looking down the dark, eerie staircase. Why couldn't Russia have taken the box down himself? It wasn't like he was busy. He _knew _Toris was terriefied of the basement. But then again, that was probably just the reason he'd chosen him for the task. He tried to tell himself 'it was just a basement,' and 'there was nothing down there,' to calm himself, but the attempt proved to be fruitless. He cautiously made his way down the staircase one step at a time, trying desprately not to drop the box or trip over one of the many nails sticking out of the stairs' old, creaky wooden planks. _

_Once he had finally reached the bottom, he hastily set down the box and searched the brick wall frantically for the lightswitch that would turn on that one dying lightbulb that hung from the ceiling like a bat. The wall's chill stung his hand as he groped around in desprate need of light. He probably wouldn't have been so frightened if he'd been able to see anything. He wouldn't have been able to see his hands if they were an inch from his face. And this, my friends, was exactly why Toris hated the basement. His hand finally met the pertruding plastic. He flicked it upward, and was granted the gift of sight once more. For a moment, he was relieved, until he was greeted by the ghastly, haunting noises that came from all directions. _

_He quickly picked up the box and carried it to its destination. After setting it down, he looked around, making sure nothing was hiding behind one of the many stacks of cardboard filled with lord know what, and just as he was about to bolt for the stairs, he felt something scurry up his arm. He looked down to find a big, nasty, hairy, brown spider sitting right in the middle of his forearm. Toris shrieked in fear at the little creature and shook his arm violently until it fell on the floor and scuttled into a crevice between two boxes, where it just barely escaped a painful death-by-giant-foot. He began to run for the stairs until he heard something: something louder than the usually spooky creaking and rattling, something much different. He found himself frozen in place, paralyzed by fear, and unable to move. He heard the noise again, this time recognizing it as a shuffling sound, and noticing that it had come from the door to the old storage closet in the darkest corner of the basement. _

_He had convinced himself that he had been hearing things after remembering that the closet had been locked for decades. He had been convinced until he heard the sound yet again. Normally, Toris would have run for his life, but he was too afraid to move. He, as well as his other Baltic siblings, had always wondered what Russia kept in that closet that was so important. Could it be that it was haunted by a ghost? What if it was some sort of angry spirit seeking revenge? Was it possible that there was a dead body in there? Either way, Toris didn't believe in ghosts, but what could it be?_

_Just then, the noise was made a fourth time, and Toris jumped backward, yelping in surprise as he did so._

_"What the fuck...? I someone there...?" coughed a weak voice from the other side of the door, leaving Toris frozen in fear once again._

_"Hello...?"_

_"Y-y-yes?" Toris studdered._

_"Ha... so there is someone out there..."_

_The person on the other side of the door sounded as though they were having trouble breathing; lacking a proper amount of oxygen. There were brief pauses in the middle of their sentences as they stopped to breathe an insufficient amount of air into their lungs._

_"W-who are you?" Toris asked, shaking like a shaved cat._

_"What do you mean 'who am I'? Isn't it obvious? Who the hell are you?"_

_"N-no. No, it isn't obvious. Just t-tell me who you are!"_

_"You don't recognize my voice...? Wow...I guess everyone really has forgotten about me... You don't need to tell me who you are. I can already tell. You're one of those little Baltics, am I right?"_

_By this time Toris was thoroughly frightened. He was to a point where he would have undoubtedly wet himself, had he not been too scared to pee._

_"Just who the heck are you? ...a-and what on earth are you doing in the basement?"_

_"Well I don't really have much of an option to leave this shit hole... The door's a bit locked, if you couldn't tell."_

_"Who the hell are you, then?"_

_"I'm Prussia, goddamnit. Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?"_

_Toris said nothing._

_"Yes? P-R-U-S-S-I-A: Prussia. Preußen. You know, Gilbert...? Germany's brother...? Awesome...?"_

_"Really, this isn't funny. Just tell me who you are!"_

_"I just did, you dumbass."_

_"Really, your joke is not funny. Why are you making this so difficult?"_

_Toris's fear had been replaced by severe annoyance. Why couldn't this person just be cooporative?_

_"Why are _you_ making this so difficult? I already told you who I am. What do you want? My blood?" The person on the other side of the door seemed to be getting annoyed as well. "hah...there's plenty of that in here," he jeered, almost inaudibly, to himself. "I told you already, I'm Prussia, Gilbert Beilschmidt. What kind of proof do you want?"_

_"Prussia has been dead for decades! Really, now, just who are you?"_

_"So then, everyone really does think I'm dead...? Well fuck. I guess that'd explain why I'm still here," he mumbled just quietly enough for Torris not to hear. "This conversation really isn't going anywhere, now is it? How many more times am I going to have to say it before you understand that _I am Prussia_? Ich bin Preußen. Én porosz. Jestem Prus. Aš esu Prūsija. How many different languages do you want me to say it in? There's five right there, do we need to make it six? seven? eight? nine...?"_

_Toris paused for a moment, unsure of how to act in the situation._

_"If you really are Prussia, then what are you doing here? Where have you _been_ for so long...?"_

_"_Here_. Man, you sure are stupid. __This__ is where I've been all this time. Don't you _live_ here...?"_

_Toris could plainly say that he was confused, but that wouldn't have described the whole of it. He was completely and utterly baffled. Nothing this person said made any sense at all. He didn't know whether to believe them or not. They seemed to be pretty serious, but their story just didn't fit._

_"Hey. You got a key to this closet from hell?"_

_Toris's thoughts were interrupted._

_"N-no. I'm sorry." _

_"That's too bad...guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."_

_Toris waited a moment before speaking, "Are...are you really Prussia? Truthfully?"_

_"Well you'd know the answer to that if you'd get me out of this place, now wouldn't you."_

"A-at first, I didn't believe it was really him, but it made sense after he explained it, and now I think he was telling the truth... H-he told me that Russia's had him locked up in there, and he... he told me that he beats him. I...I've been beaten by him before and...it...it's..." Toris swallowed hard and thought of how to change the subject, not wishing to recall the memories in the scars on his back and various other places on his body.

"I don't know what his condition is like, but...but he didn't sound too well...He didn't sound well at all."

Elizaveta's heart sank.

"He didn't say much, but he wanted me to tell you, Germany, that he's alive... He said he didn't expect anyone to save him, but he wanted you to know that."

Ludwig was thinking. It could be seen clearly by the look on his face.

The information was so simple, so why was it so difficult to understand, to accept?

The silence in the room was piercing. It made everyone uncomfortable.

Elizaveta was the one to break the ice.

"We're going to save him, right?"

"We're going to do everything we can," Ludwig assured, "everything we can."

* * *

Was that really cheesey and horrible...? I'm sorry if it was! This is my first fic...

Again, I'm really, really sorry for taking so long to update!

I have less than a week left of school, and once I get out, I'll be able to update more often.

Thanks for reading~

Reviews are greatly appreciated!

_Ich bin Preußen _- German

_Én porosz _- Hungarian

_Jestem Prus _- Polish

Aš esu Prūsija - Lithuanian


	4. Planning

I'm sorry I took so long to update again~! 8n8  
I really need to work on updating faster...I'm sorry~!

Also, THE NAME OF THE STORY IS GOING TO BE CHANGED.  
The title is really bothering me because of how cheesey and stupid it sounds, so I will be changing it to "To save your best friend..." when the next chapter comes out.

...just wanted to give you guys a heads up about that.  
Thanks~

* * *

As Ludwig had stated, if they were going to save Gilbert, they would need a plan, and a damn good one at that. They began right away, and the planning lasted well into the night. Feliciano had come in at some point and fallen asleep on the couch with his head in Ludwig's lap, much to the German's embarrassment. It was no secret that they were a couple, but despite the fact, Ludwig couldn't keep from blushing (much to Elizaveta's entertainment).

They planned for hours, Ludwig and Elizaveta figuring out strategies, as Toris drew out maps of the house and told them of secret doors and back entrances that could be useful.

The clock ticked as they conversed ideas, and shared opinions, but eventually they were all too tired to continue. Ludwig showed Elizaveta and Toris to their separate guest rooms, and carried Feliciano up the stairs to their own room for the night.

Elizaveta had trouble falling asleep that night. She couldn't get Gilbert out of her head. She still couldn't believe he was really alive...he was, wasn't he? Even so, would they be able to save him? ...and what if they got caught? What would happen then...?

She eventually fell asleep, but the thoughts and questions continued to run through her head.

Morning came around, and everyone excluding Feliciano was up early to continue where they had left off the night before. The Italian did eventually come down, however, and began making breakfast for everyone, resisting the urge to make pasta.

The planning continued well into the night as it had the previous day, and the cycle repeated itself again.

Although it had taken multiple days, they had finally come up with a plan, and a damn good one at that.

That, as well as back up plans for nearly every situation they could think of.

Toris would be heading back to Russia as soon as possible, and say he had been in Poland with Feliks.

When Russia asked why he hadn't said anything when he left, Toris would tell him he had been in a hurry because he was late and didn't want to miss his flight.

Of course Russia would question him, but he wouldn't suspect anything, since things like that had happened before.

And if for some reason that story wouldn't work, Feliks had dragged him out of the house and he hadn't had a chance to say he was leaving.

If that wasn't suitable either, there were plenty of other excuses prepared for him to choose from.

Elizaveta and Ludwig would take a flight the next day, and take a rental car to the address Toris had given them.

The safest way to get in would be through the little door at the side of the house, but the passage leading into the basement was small and rather narrow.

Elizaveta was the only one small enough to crawl through it easily, where it would have been much more difficult for anyone else.

The other route was through a window toward the back of the house on the first floor that lead to the room where Toris did the laundry.

The very same room that had the door leading to the basement.

That was the way Ludwig would be going if it was safe.

Toris would make sure the coast was clear, and text Ludiwg if it was okay to come through that way.

If it wasn't safe, Ludwig would wait by the other entrance, and hope he wouldn't get a call from Elizaveta.

Elizaveta would only call if it was an emergency. Otherwise, she would text him if he was needed.

A call from Elizaveta would be very unlikely, fortunately. She would be armed with a knife and a handgun in case she needed to defend herself.

Calling Ludwig would be a last resort.

She was strong, and she was a good fighter. Both Ludwig and Toris had faith in her.

Also to their advantage, she could pick locks.

She would have a supply of bobby pins in various sizes, and unlock the door to Gilbert's closet.

If she was unable to get the door open, or if Gilbert was unconsious and had to be carried out, Elizaveta would text Ludwig to come down for assistance.

Ludwig would then text Toris to see if the path was clear.

If it wasn't he would take the same passage Elizaveta took. It would be a bit difficult, but not impossible.

They would get Gilbert out of the room and text Toris when they had him.

Toris would let them know if it was safe to come up the stairs, which was preferable, or if they had to go the back way.

Once they had Gilbert out of the house, they would get him to the car as quickly as possible, and once they had driven to a safe place, they would see how badly he was injured, and bandage up what they could.

If he needed to be taken to a hospital, which would most likely be the case, they would get out of Russia first.

That was the first main plan. They had thought of two others, but that seemed to be what would work the best.

If everything went smoothly, they would get him out of the house without Russia noticing a thing.

Toris would be leaving for the airport early the next morning, and Elizaveta and Ludwig would wait. Of course, Feliciano would find a way to keep them busy, but it would still be agonizing to just sit and wait. Gilbert meant a lot to them both, and they couldn't mess this up. If something went wrong, they might never have been able to get him back. Even if that were the case, they wouldn't give up. Gilbert was their brother, best friend, worst enemy, the one who could make anybody laugh, and he had been taken from them...but now they had the chance to get him back, and they were not about to let that pass by.

Toris went to bed, knowing he would have to get up early, as well as that tomorrow he would be being sent back to hell.

Ludwig and Elizaveta were the only ones left awake after Feliciano had fallen asleep on the couch. They both knew they wouldn't be able to sleep if the tried. Elizaveta didn't want to sleep, though. She wanted to stay up as late as she could so that maybe, just maybe she would be able to sleep through the first part of the next day.

"...Would you like something to drink?" Ludwig offered.

"Tea would be nice if you've got any...thanks."

"No problem."

There was a silence between them that made the air uncomfortable to breathe.

"He really liked you, you know..." Ludwig began to say.

"Yeah...I wish I had figured that out before he was gone..."

"We're going to get him back, though. We will... and I'm sure his feelings haven't changed. He...he told me once...one time he told me that he thought he was in love with you."

So she was right... he really had been in love with her...

"...he told me a few weeks before he found out you were getting married."

"o-oh..."

"Sorry... I don't mean to be depressing...I just thought you would want to know."

"No, no. I do want to know."

"He was really upset when he found out..."

"I bet..."

Another silence fell upon them, this time much more awkward than before.

"...poor guy," Elizaveta finally said. "If only I had noticed it sooner...we could have avoided this, couldn't we? ...is all this my fault?"

Ludwig shook his head, "no, it's nobody's fault."

Silence had fallen upon them yet again. Neither of them seemed to be successful in starting a conversation that would last.

"So...he never confessed to you...?" Ludwig asked, being careful of what he said.

Elizaveta shook her head. "No, he didn't..."

"He said he was going to... I guess was never able to build up the courage..."

"Why do you ask...?"

"He talked to me about it a lot...I remember he would get really shy about it. It was so unlike him, it was almost funny." Ludwig almost smiled, recalling the memories he had of his brother. "Sorry...I guess I was just curious if he ever said anything."

"Don't be sorry. I would have wanted to know too," Elizaveta smiled, hoping to lessen the awkwardness of the conversation.

Ludwig returned the smile slightly, but she could tell it was forced and merely out of politeness.

It made her sad.

She was sad to see the false smile on his face with no feeling and no emotion.

Was that what her smile looked like too...?

* * *

I'm sorry... lame chapter is lame~

The next one should be a lot better~! 8n8

Please forgive me...I hope it didn't sound like ranting D"8


	5. A Bad Start

WRNINGWARNINGWARNING!: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS RAPE! BEWARE!  
It's [retty shorta, and not too graphic, but to be safe, I'm going to say THIS CHAPTER IS RATED M!  
M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M M!  
YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

*ahem* Okay, well now that that's over with...  
Yay! I didn't take forever to finish writing this chapter~! 8D  
Aren't you all so proud of me? 8u8

Oh boy, this one is going to be exciting x3

I normally don't like using Japanese words because I'm writing in English, so it seems very odd to me, but I didn't know what to have Lithuania calling Russia other than "Russia-san" that would make it sound like an equivalent to that in English, because "Mr. Russia" just sounds weird... so sorry about that :C

* * *

Right from the very start, Toris had a bad feeling. No, he had a terrible feeling. The moment he stepped on to the plane, he knew something was going to go wrong.

He tried to ease his anxiety by remembering what Ludwig had said, _"nothing ever goes as planned. That's why we're prepared for the enexpected," _but it only made him worry more.

Ludwig knew what he was talking about; he knew what they were doing, but Toris just couldn't get his doubts to leave him. He tried to distract himself by making odd little designs with a package of airplane peanuts he'd recieved from the flight attendant, but all he gained from it was a feeling of idiocy when he got strange looks from the people sitting next to him.

Toris was thankful to see he had the seat by the window, considering how often he got carsick, but as soon as the plane got moving, it didn't seem to be doing much for him. He had a feeling that the churning in his stomach wasn't just from the plane, though. No matter what he did, he couldn't shake the worried feeling. Something was wrong, he could just feel it.

By the time he had reached Russia's house, he _knew_ something wasn't right. Something just felt so wrong.

He got to the front door, hesitating before opening it. He first peeked his head in, and then, seeing no appearant danger, stepped inside.

"I-I'm home," he called, but got no response, which worried him.

"Hello, Toris," came a voice from behind him.

Toris nearly jumped back out the door.

"Oh, h-hello, Russia-san... I-I didn't see you there..."

Russia did not look amused.

"...And may I ask where you have been the last few days," he paused, purely to frighten the Lithuanian, "Toris?"

"I-I was at Feliks's house, Russia-san...I-I'm sorry, I didn't get a chance to say I was leaving."

"Is that so?" asked the Russian man, a seemingly innocent smile on his face.

"Y-yes, Russia-san."

Something was not right.

"How odd... I would think Feliks would have known if you had been at his house, da?"

"E-excuse me, Russia-san?"

"Don't you agree that it's a bit odd Feliks was not aware that you were at his house?"

"I'm sorry, Russia-san, I don't understand what you mean..."

What was going on? Was it possible that the plan could have failed so soon? Was all that work for nothing?

"I called Feliks just the other day, you see, and he said he did not know where you were... Now where were you really, Toris?"

Toris was speechless. He had no idea what to say. This wan't supposed to happen. Of all the things that could have gone wrong, it was the one thing they hadn't planned for. They hadn't even considered the possibility.

"Toris...?"

What could he say? He couldn't just tell him that he had been in Germany helping two other nations plan to take Prussia from him. He couldn't make up a new story either, because now Russia knew he didn't want him to know where he had been. Russia, however, knew how frightened the smaller nation was, and he was going to get the answer he wanted, even if he had to beat it out of him.

"Toris, it's time to tell me where you have been," he said, wearing his usual child-like smile. Toris was shaking, not knowing what to do. There was nothing he could say that wouldn't give away the plan. What would happen if he said nothing? Then what would Russia do?

That seemed to be the best choice if he wanted to keep the plan a secret. He would simply say nothing.

"Toris, why is it that you are not speaking? Tell me where you have been, and we can avoid using violence. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Toris was absolutely terrified, and Russia knew it. Even still, he remained silent. There were three other nations depending on him (even if only two of them knew it); he couldn't give in now.

Russia grabbed the smaller man by the collar of his shirt and, lifting him up off the ground, asked yet again, "Now, now, Toris. We wouldn't want to have to have you punished now, would we?" Despite the pain, the Lithuanian continued to keep his mouth shut. Toris could feel his shirt beginning to tear just before he was dropped to the ground. He looked up to see Russia towering over him, holding his pipe. Toris could have sworn he hadn't been holding it a second ago.

"Now would be a good time to tell me where you've been, da?"

...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-..-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...-...

Gilbert was exhausted. He didn't even have the energy to scrape himself up off the floor. It had been days since he'd had any food or water.

He felt like a caged animal. He _was_ like a caged animal.  
...and _abused_ caged animal.

The door creaked open, and as the tall shadowy figure Gilbert knew all too well stepped into the room, the only thought that went throught his head was _shitshitshitshitshit!_

As the figure walked toward him, he remained as still as he could. Maybe if he didn't breathe, that Russian bastard would think he had finally died.

He was overcome by a feeling of relief, however when a plastic bottle of water was placed on the floor in front of him, and the other man left him in peace.

Was he dreaming? He thought he must have gone mad, but when he reached out to touch the bottle of water, it was really there. He wrapped his fingers around the bottle, and used what strength he had left to pull himself upright. Quickly, Gilbert unsrewed the cap, and downed nearly the whole thing at once. He drank it so fast, he could barely taste it.

...What?

Water doesn't have flavor. It wasn't water, it was...vodka?

Was Russia being kind enough to help numb the pain before his next beating? No. He wouldn't.

Gilbert knew there was another reason he had given him alcohol, and he knew it wasn't good. As soon as the realization had hit him, he tried to gag himself, but it was to no avail. It was already beginning to take effect on him... what was the percentage of alcohol in vodka again...? What had he just been doing...? Where exactly was he? Why was it so dark? Why did he feel so dizzy...?

It all came back to him when the door reopened, and the tall, dark shadow walked toward him once again.

"W-whut're ya' doin' you b-basterd...?" he slurred with a small hiccup at the end.

"Who would have know it would be that easy to get you so drunk, da?"

"F-fuck you... *hic* y-you...wh-whut the hell're you try'n t' do?"

"It appears that you are no longer a secret. They're going to try to take you from me, but I won't let them."

"W-whut...? Whut're you talkn' about?"

Gilbert felt a cold hand on his shoulder.

"It will be easier if you cooperate, da?"

It all seemed to happen so fast. The alcohol made it difficult to process what was going on, but even still, Gilbert knew he was in trouble.

He felt himself embraced by the larger nation from behind. A cold, dangerous embrace. What was he doing? He didn't appear to have his pipe with him, so he wasn't going to beat him...

Gilbert was so busy trying to figure out what was happening, he almost didn't notice his pants being slid down. And then he realized what was happening.

He was going to...

Gilbert yelled out in pain as the stonger nation thrust into him without warning, showing no mercy to the weak, fragile body that used to be a strong, powerful country.

Unfortunately, his screams only excited the Russian more, and he thrust into him even harder. He tried to get away, but he was too weak, and he couldn't think straight. He was beginning to panic in his head.

There was no way out of this.

* * *

Sorry, that was kind of short, wasn't it...? D8

At least I got it done fairly quickly, right? xP

Ah, poor, poor Gilbert... 8'C  
Gilbert, please forgive me~ ;n; I don't mean to like to torture you DD'8


End file.
